A Morning Girl
by The Karnstein
Summary: Anti-Twilight fanfiction. How the events in the story would have been totally different if my character replaced Bella Swan.
1. Preface

A Morning Girl

**Author's Note:** Inspired by my friends Chloe and Snarky. Chloe for creating that hilarious video "If I Was Bella Swan" and Snarky for writing "Twi-Right." This fanfiction is for the two of you.

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Preface

_I consider myself to be fortunate to have found love in this lifetime. And yet it was moments like these where I wished that the love of my life hadn't been crippled and therefore incapable of helping me in this situation. I knew I was going to die tonight, and I knew there was absolutely nothing that could stop that. If my loved one was strong again, if his legs were restored and his strength had returned, then maybe he could save me. _

_But that wasn't going to happen. He was not going to rescue me. He wasn't going to attack my soon-to-be murderer and save the day. I knew I was on my own with this one. _

_"...So this is how I'm going out...?" I muttered to myself, not caring that my attacker was drawing closer. "...Some metrosexual, sparkling little fairy is going to murder me in a ballet studio?"_

_It was humiliating. There was no other words to describe it. To make the situation worse, the moment my words left my mouth, my attacker moved at an alarming speed and smashed my head against the floor. I felt his cold grip against my throat, I felt my trachea closing in under his strength, and before long I found myself staring into his glowing, murderous eyes._

_I sighed. "You know..." I choked from under his grip. "...If I was going to be killed by a man who sparkles... couldn't I at least have been murdered by a transvestite with an ax, like in Rocky Horror? At least then I would have some kind of dignity left..."_

_He hissed, and I felt the pressure on my throat increase._

_It would be over soon..._


	2. Chapter One

A Morning Girl

Chapter One

From the moment I was brought into this world, my life was never what one would consider to be particularly "normal," and this could be for a good number of reasons.

I was born in Forks, Washington, but was raised in Scottsdale, Arizona after my parents divorced. I was six-years-old at the time and never really understood the situation at that time. As I grew older, it became all the more clear what these unsaid reasons were: although my parents never discussed it, the rest of the town certainly did. I didn't understand the strange looks and whispers when I was younger, but the more I thought about it as I grew up, the more obvious it all became. Before I was born, my parents had been in what seemed to be a happy marriage, but something must have happened. My dad is the Chief of Police and he's always busy with his work, leaving Mom alone a good portion of the time. His absence must have been some contributing factor to my mother's subsequent actions. When she was pregnant, Dad was overjoyed, and maybe it would have been the best thing that could have happened to their marriage.

That is, if I hadn't been born with darker skin, black hair, and brown eyes. For the record, both Mom and Dad are Caucasian.

I have to give my Dad a lot of respect for staying with us as long as he did. Even though it was very obvious that I was not his biological daughter, he never once treated me as such. Maybe this was the reason why I could not understand the divorce right away. Sure, both of my parents were Caucasian, and sure, I had darker skin and hair than the both of them, but they were still my parents. It never occurred to me for a second that some completely stranger was my father, or that Mom got lonely one evening and paid a visit to some handsome young Indian man in La Push. My dad was my dad. He was always good to me, he did everything for me, and even though he and Mom must have argued every single day and night over her poor choices, I know he really did try to make things work. Their decision to divorce, and my mom's decision to take me away from Forks and move to Scottsdale, was one of the hardest times in my life.

Divorce is never easy on anybody, especially a confused six-year-old.

The hardest part was Mom's decision to date again. There were many boyfriends over the years, but I think I might have scared them off. It was hard for me to accept someone into my life who was not my father, and I didn't keep that a secret. But when Mom decided to re-marry, it was surprisingly easier to deal with than I would have expected. She shacked up with some young baseball player who seemed more comfortable treating me like a little sister instead of a daughter. Maybe that was what made it easy for me. He never really expected me to call him my dad, and never seemed all that offended or bothered when I didn't. He was a good man, and Mom was happy with him, and even though life was overall pleasant, I couldn't help but miss my father every day for the next twelve years.

The greatest part about graduating High School and applying for college was the fact that you could apply virtually anywhere you wanted, like Washington. Although I loved Arizona, I loved my father more, and phone calls and birthday cards over the years were simply not enough. There was a good art college near Forks, Washington. I applied there in a heartbeat, I made arrangements to stay with my father, and by the end of the summer, Mom was driving me to the airport with all of my belongings.

We didn't say a word on the ride there. I knew she didn't like this decision at all, and I really didn't know what to say. I made it clear that I missed my father and wanted him back, but I tried to reassure her that I wasn't moving so far away because I didn't want to be with her. She always nodded, she always said she understood, but I doubt that she ever totally meant it. Instead of small talk, the drive to the airport consisted almost entirely of me staring out of the car window. Arizona was always a beautiful state. I always loved the blue, cloudless skies and the warm, sunny days. Hell, I even loved the crazy lightning storms we would get from time to time. I knew this was going to be the last time I would be accustomed to such beautiful weather and awesome storms. I remembered Forks being a very cold, wet, and cloudy place, but I couldn't remember if that was entirely unpleasant or not.

The car rolled to a stop. I turned my head and saw my mother looking back at me. She forced a smile on her face, but I could see the pain in her eyes. She must have realized this, for she lowered her head and stepped out of the car. I opened the door and the two of us began to unload the trunk of the car. Mom grabbed a very heavy suitcase and pulled it away from the car. I slung asmaller shoulder bag over my right shoulder and carried a bright pink parka in my other arm. Needless to say, the parka looked very out of place in a desert.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

I'm not going to lie: I would have preferred more silence rather than hearing that question for the upteenth time. She had only asked it nearly every day since I decided to move out.

"Yeah. It's been awhile since I've been to Forks... should be nice to go there again for school." was my usual response.

"Valerie..." I looked up and saw Mom approaching me. "...Look... it's not that I don't want you to go and be happy, it's just..." she sighed and began to stroke my long hair. "...It's just... I'm really, really going to miss you..."

Her voice was cracking. It didn't take long for her to start crying. I sighed and wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tightly. She returned the hug and tried to hold back a few more sobs. No matter how irritating I found her disapproval of my decision to move, I never enjoy seeing my mother upset. I gave her a kiss on the cheek and pulled back after a few long minutes.

"I'll call you every day." I promised. "I'll tell you everything that's going on. And I'll think about you all the time."

She sniffled and nodded, wiping away a few more tears. Then she patted me on the arm. "Well then, you better get going. Don't want to be late for your plane..."

"Alright..." I responded, then gave her another hug. "I love you, Mom... I'll miss you."

The wait to board the airplane was uncomfortably long, but the flight itself seemed to last for ages. Worst of all, I absolutely could not stand the turbulence. Every single time the plane dropped I nearly entered a panic attack. One moment I would be delightfully engaged in the latest _Deadpool _comic, and then the next second I would feel the plane drop about twenty-feet or so. Before you knew it, I was yelping, grabbing onto the arm of the nearest stranger, and waiting my death. Needless to say, the men sitting near me were not amused, and were certainly not looking forward to the rest of this flight. I made a point not to be too bothersome when we went without turbulence. By keeping myself amused with my collection of graphic novels, I kept myself from being a nuisance. Throughout the flight I went through several stories about _Batman_, _The Watchmen_, _Iron Man_, and _The Crow_. When I finished them, sometimes I would start all over again. After all, the flight from Scottsdale to Forks wasn't short. But as entertaining as stories about superheroes and vigilantes were, I was more enthusiastic about getting this flight over with.

And before I knew it, my had plane landed in Washington, and I found myself looking for a father I hadn't seen in thirteen years.

And I was ignorant enough to believe that things could only go right from here...


	3. Chapter Two

A Morning Girl

Chapter Two

"Daddy!"

"Is that my Valerie?"

I had just spent my first ten minutes back in Forks, Washington, and because those ten minutes were spent at baggage claim, it was too soon to determine how much had changed in twelve years. But I recognized my father, Charlie Swan, instantly. When I got off the plane, I sent him a text to let him know I would be waiting for my luggage, and he took the opportunity to meet me there. I managed to find my suitcase and shoulder bag out of the huge mess of luggage, and no sooner did I turn around, I saw him heading my way. It took him a moment to fully recognize me, but I suppose my big smile must have given me away. Immediately I dropped my bags on the floor and went running towards him, throwing my arms around him and hugging him tightly. He laughed and returned the hug.

"Look at you..." he sighed before pulling away to look me over. "God, you're a young woman now..."

"Yeah, but still tiny." I laughed. I hadn't grown much over the years. At eighteen-years-old, I stood around 5'2 and everybody, my father included, towered over me. "And if it makes you feel better, I'm still pretty much a great big kid at heart."

He sighed and shook his head slowly. He never once took his eyes off of me. Dad was as pale as snow with large dark eyes, scruffy black hair, and a thin moustache. Although it had been a long time since I had seen him, he still looked just the same. I noticed that he decided to leave the police uniform at home. He probably thought that it would attract unwanted attention. After a short moment of silence, we hugged again before retrieving my bags. He struggled with the heavy suitcase for a moment before managing to walk it out of the door.

"...Forgot what it was like to have a daughter. Did you shove your entire closet in this thing?" he asked.

I slipped into my parka before I picked up my shoulderbag. "No, but I shoved everything else in there: my bed, my TV, my great big DVD collection, all of my comic books, all of my games..."

"Hey, hey, don't get smart with me, young lady." he chuckled as we made it to his vehicle. It was a rusty colored pick-up truck that looked like it was once in very bad shape. Whoever fixed it up did a hell of a job. "So, games, comics, and DVD's, huh? Never would've thought in a million years that Renee would've brought up a nerd."

After he pulled the suitcase into the truck, I threw my shoulderbag in after it. "Yeah, I think it shocked her too." was my response. "Mom never liked all the comics I bought, so she would try to get me into romance novels and some book about a guy holding an apple... never really appealed to me. Then Phil tried to turn me into a little jock, but as it turns out, I never cared much for sports."

No sooner did I drop Phil's name, there was a very uncomfortable tension in the air. Phil was Mom's new husband, after all. While I'm positive that Dad got over my mother, or at least came to terms with her being with someone else, I had a feeling he didn't like the idea of another man having some kind of an influence over his daughter. It was time to change the subject. When we slipped into the car, I slapped my hands against the dashboard.

"So, when did you get this? Here I was thinking you just drove your police car everywhere."

Immediately his mood lightened. He smiled and tilted his head to the side. "I still drive it everywhere." he chuckled. "This baby isn't mine. It's _yours_."

A number of emotions showed on my face all at once. One of the worst things about flying to Washington was leaving my car behind in Arizona. Since it was in my mother's name anyways, I figured I would just let her have it, but I didn't think I'd be getting another one so soon. But on the other hand... well... the car wasn't entirely pleasing to look at. In fact the moment I saw it, "red neck" was the first thought that entered my mind, and that wasn't exactly a title I was hoping to acquire.

Still... it was a new ride...

"...Wait, what?" I stammered. "This thing is for me?"

Dad chuckled and leaned back in the seat. "Well I know it's not a Porsche, or one of those... what's that one car a nerdy girl like you would recognize... one of those yellow _Bumblebee_ cars that turn into big robots?"

I snorted and lightly shoved him. "Oh knock it off! I'm not even that big of a _Transformers_ nerd, unless you count _Beast Wars_." he laughed and moved away from the shove. "But man... wow... you got this for me?"

"Well yeah." he said, starting up the truck. "You told me you were leaving your car in Arizona, and what good's a college girl without her own set of wheels? Hey, do you remember Billy Black?"

I shook my head. Although I remembered quite a bit about my life in Forks before I moved away, there were still a few details I had forgotten.

"Ah... you were probably too little to remember. He used to go fishing with me way back when." he explained. "Anyways, he had an accident. He's in a wheelchair now and can't drive this little beauty anymore. And his son, Jacob, didn't want it. So when I told them that you'd be needing a new ride, they did some work on it and I took it off their hands. You like it?"

I looked over the inside of the car, from the windshield to the backseats. It wasn't the prettiest set of wheels in the world, but still, it was quite the homecoming gift. I smiled back at my Dad and patted the dashboard.

"I like it." Was my response before I moved in and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, Daddy… it's really good to be home…"

And to be honest, it really was. Although I remembered living in Forks in my younger years, spending the majority of my life in Arizona dominated most of my memory. I was always accustomed to hot, sunny days out in a desert, and it was very different to see such a different landscape. Washington was a very cold, damp place to live in, but everything looked and smelled so fresh and natural. It was rare to see an actually forest landscape in Scottsdale, and when I realized I would actually be spending the next few years of my life in such a place was breathtaking.

The ride home from the airport was a bit lengthy, but we killed time with questions. Since it had been years since we last saw each other, I took it upon myself to fill him in on all that I had been up to. This ranged from my high school graduation to my newfound addiction to _Dance, Dance Revolution_ and _Super Smash Bros. Brawl._ Dad took the effort to look enthusiastic and interested in all the nerdy hobbies I obsessed over, but I doubted that was really the case. As it turns out, Dad was something of a sports fan himself, as well as an outdoorsman. He loved fishing and hunting in his spare time, both of which were of little interest to me (I never understood the appeal of ripping hooks out of a creature's mouth for fun). We also had differing tastes when it came to music. There was something totally unappealing about his decision to leave the country music station on the radio, and I was more than confident that he wouldn't approve of my love for hard rock and electronica.

Evidently, we were very different. But I loved him, and he loved me. Somehow we would make this work.

To my surprise, my home was just as I remembered it on the outside: white with a dark blue roof, two-stories, a large porch, and the very big driveway that led to the dirt road. The inside was generally the same as well, with a couple major differences: the flatscreen television, DVD player, surround-sound, and a whole new set of furniture for the living room. Going completely on what I had remembered from years ago, I found myself walking up the stairs and turning left down a small hallway. There was a white door with a small flower carved into the wood, and when I opened the door, I made a very pained face at what I saw.

"Wow…" I managed to get out after a few moments of gaping. "…This is a very…_very_ pink room…"

Apparently there were some things my father forgot to change about this house. I was happy that he managed to get rid of my little girl bed, dresser, and toy box, but the bubblegum pink walls had stayed the same. My newer bed was small and looked very comfortable, but the comforter was a light pink with white details sewn into it. The curtains on my window were white and lacy, and the dressers in my room also followed the "white and pink" color scheme.

It wasn't so much that I minded the color, but it did feel like a complete overkill.

"…First thing is first…" I said to myself as I set my bags down. "…I'm going shopping for school supplies, and then I'm buying a fuck-ton of posters..."

"Watch your mouth." I turned to see my father pulling in the heavy suitcase into my room. "I'm happy to see you but I will set you straight if I have to."

I put a hand over my mouth. "What do you mean? I've never said a bad word in my entire life."

He shook his head at me and then tossed me my new car key. "Put it on your keychain. The baby's all yours from now on. Take care of it."

I nodded as he left the room. After unpacking about half of my belongings, I collapsed on my bed and hugged one of my very comfortable pillows. I had spent far too many hours on planes and in cars then I would have liked. I was completely drained of any sort of energy that would drive me to be active for the remainder of the day. It was time for some shut-eye.

Tomorrow would be another day of unpacking, settling in, and buying school supplies. And after that, my first day of college would begin.


	4. Chapter Three

A Morning Girl

**Author's Note:** Thanks for all the favorites, comments, and story alerts. I'm really happy that you guys are enjoying the story so far and I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Thanks again!

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Chapter Three

The next two days were dedicated entirely to two things: shopping and college.

It didn't take long to pack away all of my clothes. I had two dressers and a decent-sized closet, so there was a place for everything. Packing away my "nerd loot" on the other hand took a little longer, if only because I wasn't entirely sure where to put all my books, games, consoles, and DVD's. Unfortunately my very pink room did not come with book shelves, so I had to make do. I put my comic books on the desk where my new laptop was sitting, and I arranged all of my other books and novels ontop of one of the dressers. My gaming consules, DVD's and games went downstairs into the living room, since my bedroom didn't come with a television. When everything was situated, I took the keys to the rusty Redneckmobile and decided to head out into town. It may have looked a bit junky, but it ran pretty smooth.

Unfortunately, a smooth ride is very little help when you have virtually _no_ sense of direction whatsoever.

It was a good thing that I had a cellphone on me. I usually don't care much for talking on the phone or texting, but it was definately a _"must have!"_ for me while I was driving. When it comes to following directions while traveling, I am something of a complete retard, and I'm sure my father could attest to that. I called him probably every five minutes asking him where to go whenever I got lost. I either passed all the right streets, or made all of the wrong turns, or he told me the name of a street and I confused it for something completely different... yeah. It was a hassel. I certainly love the man for not losing his patience because I _know_ that hearing that phone go off every ten seconds must have been driving him fucking nuts.

But eventually, I finally found myself in the area that housed a small collection of shops and stores. It was as close to a mini mall as Forks could afford, apparently. And because my priorities were not entirely sorted out in order, I set out to buy that fuck-ton of posters that I mentioned earlier. School supplies was important but my very pink room needed to be dealt with as soon as possible.

I parked my truck infront of a very obscure shop. The windows were covered in posters from White Zombie covers to large pictures of the Graverobber from_ Repo! A Genetic Opera_. The door had a wide variety of skull stickers, naked animated women, and one very large upside-down pentagram.

"Huh, very _My Immortal_-esqe." I muttered to myself. "But it looks like the right place to get posters..."

Without hesitation, I pushed open the door and stepped into what appeared to be the Christian idea of Hell: black walls covered in a collage of posters and band flyers, red lights illuminating an otherwise very dark establishment, goth and metal merchandise hanging here and there, and Godsmack roaring over the speakers. In the far back of the shop was a wide variety of lingerie, corsets, and fetish items. The wall closest to me had a large collection of DVD's and CD's. Every other shelf in the store held incenses, candles, and plenty of accessories.

"Can I help you?"

The voice from behind me sounded unusually sweet in a place like this. I turned around to see a short, stocky woman with very dark skin wearing a corset and a spiked collar while the rest of her clothes followed a black and red color scheme. It was too dark to observe her make up, but she did have dark red lips and very messy eye make-up. Most interesting was her hair: though it was clearly artificial, she teased it in a way where it looked natural, but still carried an edge look.

I was already thinking about applying for a job here. Especially if the employees are encouraged to dress like it's Halloween. I could dig it.

"Uh, yeah..." I said. "I'm looking for some posters. You see, my room is very _pink..._"

Before I could get another word out, the girl turned on her heel and began to walk away from me. She gestured with her hand for me to follow, and so I did. She led me pass the music and DVD's and we stepped into a cornor near the bondage section. Next to the wide variety of awkard looking sex toys was the poster display. She gestured to it and nodded at me.

"If you need more help, let me know." she said, then pointed in another direction. "I'll be at the cash register."

"Okay, thanks!" I said as she walked away. Trying my best to ignore the sex toys (which was quite hard to do, some of those looked very painful), I began to flip through the posters.

"Let's see..." I whispered. "My room is kinda big, so... I guess I'll just have to take a whole bunch..."

To my surprise, their selection of posters was more than satisfactory, if not very surprising: "Wow, this place came with a _Deadpool_ poster? I'm totally applying here..." I said to myself before taking the poster. "Heath Ledger Joker, of course!" I collected that one as well. "Rob Zombie's face, always good.... t.A.T.u., also very good... _FUCK YEAH, SUPERBAD!"_

It's moments like these where I was thankful that this store came with very loud music. I assumed that nobody heard me in this place, for if they did, I would've felt like a complete moron.

"Yeah... I'm buying the _Superbad_ one for sure..." I found the poster and added it to the collection. And then I stumbled across a few rotten eggs. "Oh what the hell is this shit? _Muse? MCR? _Fuck Muse! And fuck MCR too!" I muttered, then rose an eyebrow at the next poster I stumbled across. "...Robert Pattinson, huh? Never heard of him... kinda creepy looking... ooooh, _The Lost Boys!_ Nice..."

To say that the poster selection was totally awesome would be an understatement, even if it did have a few other posters I didn't care for (_Evanescence_, _Pirates of the Caribbean_, and couple Tim Burton posters that I've seen far too many times to find them appealing). To make matters even better, there were even posters of Legend of Zelda, Castlevania, Tomb Raider, and even Tifa Lockheart. Not one poster of Cloud Strife or Sephiroth, but one great big awesome poster of Tifa Lockheart. _Epic_ _win_.

So with my huge selection of posters under my arm, I hauled them all the way to the cash register where I saw the employee who, judging by her name tag, went by the name of Mindy. She took one look at all of the posters, then looked back up at me with a very non-chalant expression.

"...You must really have one pink room..." she said. I nodded, and she turned away from me to grab something off of a shelf. When she turned back, she set down a skull candle-holder that was about the size of her fist. Inside was an already lit red candle. "Want to line your room with some of these? They're on sale."

"Maybe next time." I lied. Skulls and candles were pleasant and all, but I really didn't feel the need to turn my room into the aborted child of Spencer's Gifts and Hot Topic.

She rang up my posters and I paid her the money. As she bagged the posters for me, a newer song came on. To her clear displeasure, it was a new Paramore song. Personally I didn't mind the band too much, but this certainly was not the case for her. And to make matters worse, the door swung open rather obnoxiously, and a very loud voice boomed from over the music.

"Mah-therfock! Turn tha' shat off, goddamnye!"

I wasn't entirely sure if the accent was Irish or drunk. As it turns out, the accent belonged to a very tall, lean girl with bleach blonde hair and hot pink bangs. Her nose, cheeks, and bare arms were covered in freckles and her eyebrows had a ginger tone. The moment I smelled the alcohol eminated from her and then spotted a shamrock in the midst of the many tattoos on her arms, I had a feeling the accent was a combination of both Irish _and_ drunk. Shame on me for reinforcing a stereotype.

"Rosie, you know you have a big mouth when you're louder than the music in here." Mindy said, still as non-chalant and uncaring as ever.

Rosie, as Mindy called her, stumbled over towards the counter and leaned against it, flashing a very mischievious grin. Up close you could see that she wore very little make up, took little time or effort to groom and primp her hair, and had a developing beer gut. Despite all that, there was really nothing entirely revolting about her, even though she was very loud. She reached over the counter and fumbled with something hidden from my view. Mindy clearly didn't care enough to stop her, and within seconds, a new song came on. To reinforce this stereotype further, it was the Celtic Cowboys with their song, "Kiss My Irish Ass." After the song came on, Rosie glanced over in my direction. She towered about a foot and an half over me, but did not look all that intimidating.

"Ain't seen ye 'round 'ere" she said, crossing her arms. "Ye new?"

I nodded. "Yeah, just moved in from Arizona."

"Oh yeah, I kin buy tha'." Rosie nodded, looking me over. "Lotsa tan people in Arizona, yeah? Ye an Indian?"

I chuckled. "Native American, yes. Half."

This made Rosie laugh for some reason, and I soon discovered why. "Ye visitin' tha' La Push reservation or somethin'? They got themselves a lot o' sexy Indian boys over in those parts. Much hotter than the pasty fockers we got 'round 'ere!"

Yes, I'm sure my mom would attest to that one. "No," I said, shaking my head. "I'm staying with my dad. Moved here to go to college. My first day is tomorrow."

"No shit! Which one?" Rosie stood straight and clearly looked excited. When I told her I would be attending Peninsula College, she started laughing again. "Yer shittin' me! Tha's where I'm goin'! Gonna be majorin' in art bein' as tha's tha only thing I'm good at apart from crashin' frat parties." then she jerked her thumb in Mindy's direction. "She goes there too. I think she's gonna be some kinda scary librarian when she grows up or something. Wha' else can ye get with a major in Philos'phy?"

Mindy responded by very casually raising her arm and giving Rosie the middle finger. Neither of them seem to take much offense to it though. It was probably how they bonded. Rosie stretched out and then pushed herself off of the counter. "Anyways, I'm gonna do some runnin' around an' buy school shit at the las' minute."

"I hope you mean that literally, because if you are driving..." Mindy began, but Rosie cut her off.

"I ain't drivin' shit, _Mum_." was the response. "I got a skateboard, which I ain't ridin' too well 'cause it's fockin' rainin'."

"Well..." I spoke up. "I have a truck and I have to get school supplies too, if you want a ride."

Her reaction was not entirely what I was expecting. She hooked one arm around my shoulders and gave Mindy a very cheesy grin. "Ya see this shit?" she chuckled. "Makin' friends ev'rywhere I go. Must be me charmin' personality."

"Must be." I said, but Mindy didn't look too convinced.

"...Doubt it." was all she said. Then she reached behind her again and pulled out a small box. "Your order came in, by the way. I assume this is why you're here."

Rosie's arm left my shoulders and she latched onto the box very quickly. "Aw snap! This is good news! Thank ye very much, Miss Mindy, yer my own personal brand o'..."

"If you finish that sentence in the way I think you are going to, I will slap you in the mouth." was Mindy's response, and Rosie simply waved her hand at her.

"Ah, fock it." she muttered, then looked at me. "C'mon then, le's go."

* * *

Attending college with Rosie was definately one of the most interesting experiences in Forks, second only to Charlie's reaction when he walked into my room on my first day of class and saw the collection of posters. There was something he found quite disturbing when he opened the door to my once very cute room and found Rob Zombie staring at him. But the poster he found the most offensive was the _Superbad_ poster.

"Isn't that the movie with the two cops and that McMuffin kid?" he said, looking completely unamused. "Dumbest movie I ever saw in my life."

"It's _McLovin_. And come on, Daddy! You mean to tell me you're not a Superbad cop?" I said, then altered my voice to mimic his. _"This is Officer Charlie Swan! Come out with your hands out! I assume you all have guns and crack!"_

He responded by cuffing me upside my head. I only laughed it off. I did feel the need to make a mental note on how much cooler the police had become since that movie came out but I decided not to jinx it. After I grabbed something to eat, I took off in the truck to begin my first day of school. Because it was the first day for everybody, the classes were relatively short for the first week. We were each given a syllabus and a list of books and supplies that we would need. Most of these I had already acquired with my trip with Rosie, but there was some art equipment for our drawing classes that we needed to buy at certain shops.

The schedule consisted of three prerequisites and two elective classes. I had a drawing class, math class in geometry, and a psychology class with Rosie. The other two were classes in geology and one about the works of William Shakespeare. It looked as though it was going to be a relatively interesting semester. By the end of my first week, I had a few simple assignments to do and a few sketchbook pages to fill out, and I was fortunate enough to have a three day weekend. The best benefit of college is having fewer classes a day and fewer days of school.

"So how's that drawing class of yours?" Dad asked when I came home on a Thursday night.

"Kinda boring. We're starting off with basic stuff: drawing spheres, shading, still-life. Hopefully it'll pick up." was my response. I put away my bag, changed into some more comfortable clothes and then came back downstairs to join Dad on the couch. He was watching the end of a baseball game and I was eating some leftover steak and cobbler he brought home from the diner.

"But you're liking school so far?" he asked after taking a drink of his beer.

I nodded. "Yeah, it's a lot different from high school, but I'm liking it so far."

There was a few moments of silence between us. I'm not big on baseball and never enjoyed watching sports, but I didn't quite feel like leaving him be. After spending an entire week with Rosie, it was a nice change to be mellow for a little bit. After the game ended, Dad changed the channel just as an episode of Two and a Half Men came on, and halfway through the opening song, he remembered something.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" he said, getting my attention. "Do you remember Mrs. Applegate?"

Of all the cloudy memories I had of my childhood years in Forks, I remembered this one clearly. "She used to be my babysitter!"

"Yeah, I saw her today at the diner." was his response. "I told her you were in town and she was really excited. Said she would love to meet you again."

"Oh, that would be great! I haven't seen her in forever!" I smiled so big that unfortunately some of the food fell out of my mouth. After recieving a very odd look from my father, I wiped my chin and smiled again. "What is she doing?"

"She's a teacher over at Forks High School." he said. "You should pay her a visit tomorrow. You have the day off, right?"

"Oh yeah, that's right... that's a great idea, actually. I'll swing by during lunchtime and say hi! See if she recognizes me."

If I would have known that visiting Forks High School was going to potentially change my life forever, I would have happily stayed home that day.


	5. Chapter Four

**A Morning Girl**

It was strange to step back into a high school after becoming a college student. I was never one to feel too nostalgic about my high school days, but there was an element about this place that made me miss it. I couldn't exactly put my finger on what it was that I had missed about a high school until I saw a small group of girls sitting at a table, copying off of each other's homework. That was exactly what I missed: a high school work load. It's strange how all of the homework and projects I had stressed over in high school suddenly seemed a lot easier now that I was in college. Assignments here were easier: they could be turned in later, you were often encouraged and reminded to study, work, and finish assignments, the majority of the work and assignments were done in the school rather than outside of it, the list went on and on.

Oh yeah, these kids don't know how lucky they are to have it so easy. They would once they reached college. In college, it's sink or swim. In high school, it's daycare for teenagers. I knew this now.

I moved through the busy halls of Forks High School and tried to make my way to the main office. I had no idea where on earth Mrs. Applegate's class was, and following directions on how to get there only got me more lost. I stopped four students: a very eccentric Asian boy, a very tall black boy with an unusual shirt (for some reason, it read _Team Tyler's Van_), a very pretty girl with brown hair, and a more dorky looking girl with braces and glasses. They all seemed friendly enough, and they all attempted to point me in the direction of where to go. Unfortunately, being that I am completely retarded when it comes to directions, all I heard out of them was "Left, right, right, right, left, left, left, and right left on the end!"

All in all, it wasn't entirely helpful. What can I say? I seriously have a problem. I figured if I cannot find it on my own, perhaps someone should just lead me to this place.

"Excuse me!" I called over the crowd of students before making my way over towards a very tall boy. My hand reached out and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, I'm really sorry to bother you but if you could show me how... to... go to... the... office...?"

I was truly at a loss for words. I do not think that I have ever been so caught off guard in my life. The boy that I had approached turned to look at me, and his appearance caused my words to die in my throat. For one, his skin was _deathly_ pale. That is no exaggeration: he was as white as the walls and looked every bit as sickly as you can imagine. I was unsure if he had a health issue or if he was an albino, until I noticed that his eyes were a strange amber color instead of red or pink. Also, his hair wasn't white. But his physical appearance was the least of my concerns: his facial expression made me feel so incredible awkward. At first, took a deep breath through his nose and his entire face twisted. His eyes bulged, his lips pressed together, and after a moment his hands slapped over his nose and mouth, as if he was either going to throw up, or if he just smelt something really, really bad.

...Jesus Christ, did he have to look absolutely revolted by me? I know for a fact that I had showered and made a point not to fart while in the presence of someone. What the hell could possibly be this guy's problem?

"O...kay, then..." I muttered, then quickly stole another look around. "Uh, hey!" I moved after another person, a girl this time, and touched her arm. "Sorry, excuse me..."

"Hi!"

This time I had recoiled, if only because the next person I had stopped had been the exact opposite: rather than looking revolted by me, she looked absolutely THRILLED to see me. She was petite, also very pale, and had short black hair that was cut in a feathered pixie style. Very Final Fantasy. She seemed very cheerful, a lot more inviting and friendlier than the creep from before, and was all smiles. So I smiled back.

"Hi," my tone was still awkward, but gradually becoming more comfortable. "I'm sorry, I um... I'm just looking for the office, because I have no idea where this teacher's room is: Mrs. Applegate? Do you think you could show me the way there? I don't know my way around..."

The girl smiled and nodded. "Not a problem, I'll show you the way then! I'm Alice. Alice Cullen."

"Valerie... Valerie Swan." I replied.

Then she did something unexpected. Rather than lead the way for me to follow behind her, she moved in to hug me, which once again caught me off guard. I thought I heard her whisper something, but I was a little too stunned by her actions to pay attention to her whisper. When she pulled away, her small hand slipped into mind, her fingers gently holding onto me, and then she began to lead me down the hall.

While this carried on, that strange boy I ran into had been watching the entire ordeal. He remained completely silent as he watched us. When I looked over my shoulder to see if he was still watching, I noticed that his expression had shifted from disgusted and sickly to irritated and bitter. In fact, the gaze he was giving me now looked more threatening than I would have expected. I rose my eyebrows, then looked away from him, following Alice down the hall. Seriously, if he didn't want to be completely ignored by two girls, maybe he shouldn't have acted like such a creep.

"Did you know that boy?" I asked Alice as we continued down another hallway. She had glanced over her shoulder to look at him before he was out of her sight.

"That's my foster brother, Edward." she said, then grinned at me. "I never saw him look at someone quite like that before."

For some reason, her tone immediately made me think of what disgusting smell that kid must have noticed when he was looking at me. And I immediately became self conscious and assumed that it was me that smelled so bad. So without thinking, I lifted up my left arm, leaned my head towards my armpit and inhaled the scent of soap and deodorant. This action had succeeded in catching Alice completely off guard. I didn't notice just how strange her expression was until I lowered my arm, took a handful of my long hair, and began to sniff that.

"Huh... well at least I know I wasn't the one who smelled bad..." I muttered. "So I wonder why he looked so sick?"

Alice rose an eyebrow at me. "Oh? You thought that he thought that you smelled bad? That's silly! You smell very nice, actually. Pantene shampoo has a lovely smell, and with all of the hair you have..."

"Wait, what?" I stopped in my tracks. "...Were you seriously... _sniffing _me, when you hugged me?"

She looked stunned for a moment, then pointed her finger at me. "...You just smelled your armpit right infront of me..."

...Fair enough. After my moment of retardation I guess she had the the right to be weird for a second too. I shrugged, and we continued walking.

It was strange, though... walking with Alice succeeded in stimulating plenty of curious thoughts and realizations. I watched her as we walked, trying not to make it obvious that I was observing her. She must have been seventeen or eighteen in order to attend this school, but she looked as though she was in her twenties. To make matters even stranger, the way she moved through the hall, with such grace and even with a little bounce to her step, reminded me of a little girl. Her pale skin did trouble me though: it was as white as her foster brother's and looked just as sickly. I know that people in Forks don't necessarily have the time to tan, what with all the clouds in the sky, but she did look as though she had some kind of skin disease.

...Actually, her hand was unusually cold. Freezing, even. Although her skin had warmed to make the heat of my hand, it was almost icy at first. She must have had some poor circulation in her fingers or something, and I would have inquired further on this matter if it wouldn't be completely rude to do so. She was probably asked about her pale skin on a daily basis from less tactful students, and that couldn't possibly be easy on her if she was diseased.

"Here we are!" she came to a stop and I noticed we were standing infront of a classroom. "Mrs. Applegate's room was a lot closer than the office, so I brought you here."

"Thank you!" I said, looking back at her.

I really started to notice then just how pretty she was, despite her really pale skin. Her face was small and heart shaped, and her dark hair complemented her fair skin perfectly. But the most noticable feature besides her awesome hairstyle were her eyes. She stared back at me with a pair of soft, bright, amber-colored eyes, just like her foster brother. I have usually been a sucker for piercing, blue eyes, if only because everyone in my family has dark brown ones. But I had never seen eyes like hers before: almost golden, a honey color. And the strangest part was, as I looked into her eyes, I felt a very warm feeling within my chest. My heart was pounding a bit harder than usual, but everything was feeling warm, comforting...

"Are those..." I gestured to my own eyes, "...is that your natural eye color or... are you wearing contacts?"

She looked stunned for a moment, visibly uncomfortable, but regained her composure. "...Contacts." she said.

"Oh... they're really pretty. They really make your eyes go... boom!" I said, gesturing with my hands to further emphasize the impact her eyes made. I felt stupid doing it, but she thought it was funny. "Well anyways... thanks for showing me the way here."

"Not a problem." she said, moving in for another hug.

That warm feeling had returned full force. With a smile, I decided to return her embrace. My arms folded around her and I leaned my head a bit closer against hers. She was so small, and yet the touch of her felt so stong and fit. After a moment, I pulled away a bit, just to whisper into her ear.

"...I have that exact same perfume." I said, causing her to chuckle.

"Now you're smelling _me_?" she teased as she pulled away.

"Well, you smell a whole lot more pleasant than my armpit!" I teased back, causing her to burst into laughter.

"I would hope so!" when our laughing had come to a stop, she moved away from me. "I will see you around, Valerie."

I waved to her and watched as she turned away and proceeded down the hall. I didn't realize it at first, but I couldn't help but smile at her even as she left. She seemed like a fairly likable person... maybe I should have asked her for her number or something. But then again, I wasn't sure how well she and Rosie would get along. Rosie did have a way of making people feel a tad bit uncomfortable or awkward with the way she behaved infront of her friends. Not that I minded her behavior, but people who weren't accustomed to her antics would have a lot to get used to.

...Still... it probably wouldn't have hurt to ask for her number. Just in case...

Just as I turned around to enter the classroom, I was met by a very white face, a pair of furrowing bushy eyebrows, and an intense stare. Alice's creepy brother had proceeded to scare me shitless.

"HEY!" I snapped, jumping as soon as I saw him. "For Christ's sake! Did you need to give me a heart attack!? And what are you glaring at?!"

He was still quiet, and he still looked as sick as humanly possible. But he never replied to me. He continued to leer at me, his look growing more intense with every second. And I was not enjoying this.

"Seriously, buddy, if you are trying to intimidate someone, try it on someone else, because you don't look scary, you look constipated. Now get the hell out of my way." I snapped.

His eyes went big for a moment, as if he couldn't comprehend what I had just said. And before I could open my mouth to say more, he grunted and turned away, speedwalking down the hall. I rolled my eyes and glanced at the classroom door.

"Creep ass..." I muttered. "Why is it that every high school comes with a potential ax-murderer? Would hate to think of what would happen if a girl broke up with him... assuming he could ever get a girl..."


End file.
